Pendragon Chronicles: The Beginning
by Lordoftheghostking28
Summary: Saving all of Halla? This is not what I expected to do on a Saturday. (Preview/first part of a series)


**Should I really be starting a full-length series? Probably not…But I'm doing it anyway! DJ MacHale, I hate you for writing so well. **

**Just kidding. I read through the entire **_**Pendragon**_** series at least two times. I highly recommend them, if you find them at your local library. There are 10 books in all, for those of you who don't know yet. **

**Ok, on to the story. Bear with me, as it's a bit confusing. But that's the fun part. Stuff explained on this upcoming series by me in the end Author's Notes.**

**XxXxXxXx**

**JOURNAL 1**

**FIRST EARTH**

Mark?

Hey, man. I'm not entirely sure if this is really happening, but if it is, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. So much has happened in the past day…I'm still trying to take it all in.

You know my Uncle Press, right? The coolio uncle everyone wished they had? He's not so cool anymore. He nearly got me killed. It's a long story that I'll explain in another few journals.

I do have the time to tell you this:

I am on another planet called "First Earth". It's a lot like our Earth…but in the past. This "First Earth" is called a Territory. One of eight. You are currently on "Second Earth".

I hope you are well. I'll have to check back in with you later…right now, timing is everything. If we fail, the entire Territory may be lost.

**XxXxXxXx**

**SECOND EARTH, 5 DAYS AGO**

**XxXxXxXx**

It started off as a normal day. I really thought I would finally have a day off from sports and homework. No basketball or chemistry to do. I planned to spend the day playing Guitar Hero and eating popcorn. "Saving all of Halla" was not on the list.

But Uncle Press had other ideas. And my parents.

It was barely eleven in the morning when my mother announced she was going to drop me at Press' house to help tame his yard. Seriously, I have never seen a lawn so uncared for. At one point, there was a rotting squirrel by the old, twisted tree I used to climb. I think that was what discouraged me from climbing that thing again.

Anyway, despite my protests and begging, she herded me to the car. So long, relaxation and Guitar Hero. I'll get back to you later.

We drove for a bit. I stared out the window, wishing I was a month older so I could begin driver's ed, and hoped I would be able to drive the tractor of a lawn mower Press had. He had always said I could use it.

It was a boring ride to say the least.

We arrived at Press' house and I jumped out. He was trying in vain to save his weed-choked garden and gave us a wave as we approached.

"Ok, I'm here. What do I do?" I asked.

He grinned. "Remember when I said you could drive the lawn mower when you were a bit older…?"

My Uncle Press is the coolest.

** XxXxXxXx**

The old John Deere tractor was ancient and had kicked up an insane amount of dust, coating me from head to toe. I couldn't see the original colour of my shoes after I was done. Or my shirt, for that matter. The only thing that wasn't covered in dust was my butt.

Press laughed and told me to go in and shower. I had brought extra clothes and I was glad I did.

After I had unclogged my ears of dust, I headed back outside. Well, at least I tried.

I don't know if I ever told you guys this, but Press has a room that is always shut and locked. This time, that door was cracked open ever so slightly.

Curiosity took the best of me and I pushed it open. The heavy oaken door opened with a loud creaking sound.

I blinked. I honestly couldn't believe what I was seeing. I never knew Uncle Press was a reader.

Shelves upon shelves of books were stacked to the ceiling. The old fashioned ladders that rolled along the bookshelves were everywhere. Boxes of books were overflowing onto the chairs and windowsills. Three heavy safes were shoved into the far corner. The room was enormous.

Then why haven't I noticed it from the outside? I'm certain I would remember books stacked against the windows. And the room was colossal. There was no way this could fit in Press' house anyway…it would have to take up half his living space.

I walked over to one of the shelves and trailed my fingers down the spines of the books. They were all old…they looked as though they would crumble to dust if I tried to pull them from the shelves. I glanced at their titles, but of course they were all written by old famous people. Nothing of interest to me.

I kept moving, stumbling upon a shelf that was empty save for a large, jewel encrusted book. I opened it and nearly gasped. The pictures were so lifelike…it was as though someone had been trapped in the pages. I looked back to the book's cover.

_ A Thousand and One Nights_.

Never heard of this version. Maybe it was the original.

I set it back and continued on my expedition. Something about the room was…calling me. It was as though I knew there was something I had to find. You know…like when you sense a great novel to read or something. But this felt bigger than that.

I had made my way toward the back of the room. There was another shelf, this one set back further than the others. All the covers were bright and solid in colour, and neatly arranged by spectrum. Not one book was out of place. This was the most cared for shelf by far. I drew toward it out of curiosity.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Unless you're ready, of course."

I spun around, heard pounding. "Uncle Press?"

That wasn't his voice…who was that? Did he have a secret librarian back here?

The voice was back toward the shelves this time. "So you must be Bobby."

I turned again and nearly jumped. Leaning casually back against the shelves was a man. His face seemed young, but his hair was long and white. He was wearing a strange cloak that covered him from neck to feet, despite the summer heat. He was extremely tall and pale, and my first thought was, "_Vampire_".

That is, until I saw his eyes.

I think that was his creepiest feature. By far. His irises were blue, but not the normal baby blue or anything. They were icy blue. Like shards of ice. Shards of ice surrounded by a dark void. He had no whites of his eyes. They were _black_.

I think my mouth fell open.

The man chuckled. "I expected a bit more from the next Traveler."

"What do you mean?" I stammered out.

"Press hasn't told you anything, has he? Not a wise decision. Not when the fate of Halla lies on shoulders so young."

What the hell was he talking about?

"So tell me, _Bobby Pendragon_," he spat my name and leaned forward so he was nearly eye level with me. "When do you take on Press' duties as Traveler of Second Earth?"

"I…" I stuttered. "I don't know what you're talking about! Get out of my uncle's house! You don't belong here!"

"Saint Dane!"

I jumped and turned to find Press standing in the doorway of the room. His face was twisted in a rage I had never seen before. "Get out of my house and leave Bobby alone!"

"Ah, Press…" the man, Saint Dane, purred. "It's so good to see you again. As you can see, I evaded that trap of yours back on that pitiful excuse of a Territory."

"Get out of my house," Press growled again, reaching into a pocket. He pulled out a small stick and pulled on either end, making it unfold into what looked to me like a mini pole-vault stick. He held it in one hand as it began crackling with electricity.

Uncle Press had a stun rod. I never knew that. Remind me never to piss him off.

Saint Dane laughed. "You honestly think that will stop me?"

"One touch of this to the files and it all goes up in flames. You don't want that, do you?" Press held the rod toward a bookshelf.

Saint Dane made a move as if to run toward Press, but held back. His face was expressionless, but I could see a vein popping in his temple. He was angry. "You wouldn't dare. You need those files." His voice was emotionless.

"So do you." Press inched the stun rod closer to the books.

"No!" Saint Dane shouted.

"Then get out!" Press roared.

Saint Dane grinned. "Very well. But now you've to explain to this young Traveler. And perhaps when we meet again, I won't kill him instantly."

What happened next I'm still trying to figure out. Saint Dane spread his arms and vanished, to be replaced by a huge bird. The thing screeched and broke through the window, vanishing into the sky.

Press deactivated the rod and put it back into his pocket. "I never thought he'd find the files," he muttered.

"What was he talking about? What are Territories? What is a Halla? What does he mean?" I nearly shouted.

"That's a story for another time." Press sighed.

"He didn't make it sound like that!" I protested. "He called me a Traveler! What the _hell_ is a Traveler?"

Press opened his mouth and shut it again, thinking. "I was hoping to explain this to you in the years to come. Halla must be falling faster than I thought."

"What is a Halla?" I insisted.

"Halla isn't just one thing…it's everything." Press ran a hand through his hair. "It is what holds the Territories in balance. Halla is…well, everything."

"And what are Territories?" I folded my arms across my chest.

"Worlds," Press said.

"Worlds? Worlds, as in, aliens exist?"

"I suppose you could put it that way. We're on a Territory now. This is Second Earth. I am the Traveler."

"Well, what happened to Earth the First?" I asked sarcastically. "Was it blown up?"

"They are, as we speak, on the verge of a nuclear war."

I thought about that for a few seconds.

"And before you ask, a Traveler is someone who can use the Flume to travel to different Territories."

"What is a—"

"A Flume is a gateway between Territories."

"Ah," I nodded. "This is making _sooo_ much sense right now."

"Perhaps it would make more sense if I show you." Press said. He pointed to the rows of books on the shelf behind me. "These aren't books published on Second Earth. They are letters and journals written by the Travelers from other Territories."

"Really…" I put my hand on the spine of one of the thicker volumes and hesitated slightly. "Why are these all turned around? The spine of the book should be facing outward."

"An extra security precaution." Press said. "It would take Saint Dane longer to find what he needs." He nudged me aside and took one of the dark purple books off the shelf. "This was written by the Traveler on Third Earth. His name is Chief."

"Chief…" I said. "What does he have to write about?"

"A lot. Many Travelers think Third Earth has already hit its turning point and fallen into chaos, like Saint Dane predicts."

"What?"

"A turning point is a time period in any of the Territories when a crucial decision has to be made. If the wrong one is decided upon, the Territory will be pulled into destruction and ruin. This is what Saint Dane wants. He wants the Territories to fall so he can rebuild them to his liking."

"Really. And us Travelers need to stop him?" I asked.

"Exactly," Press said.

"Sounds easy," I shrugged.

"It is anything but. Saint Dane has a silver tongue. He can manipulate and use gullible people and even Travelers in his elaborate plans. He can turn an entire Territory against us if he wants. But he has one flaw."

"What is that?"

"He tells us his plan. He gives us just enough information to make it a challenge. He is smart and unparalleled. He craves rivals and danger. He uses us when we think we're doing the right thing. He plays us into his traps if we're not careful." Press put the book back onto the shelf. "We need to be on our toes all the time. One wrong move can cost us thousands of lives."

He cast his gaze to the floor, and I began to wonder exactly what he must have done wrong in his Traveling career…Who had died because of him.

I hesitated. "I know I shouldn't be asking this…but have any Territories fallen because of you?"

"Two," Press sighed. "But another turning point is coming for both…for all. We have to keep them from their dark paths."

"Right."

"With this new age of turning points, there are also new Travelers." Press held me in a stare.

"You're kidding, right?" I said in a flat tone.

"Do I look to be kidding?"

"No…sorry," I stared at my still dusty shoes. "So…I have to take your place?"

"Yes. All the Travelers are being replaced by a younger generation. Hopefully for the last time. It has been said the ultimate turning point is coming…one that will permanently keep the Territories in balance, or destruction."

"So no pressure or anything," I nodded.

"None at all." Press gave me a weak smile. "Oh, there's something else I need to explain. Acolytes."

"What do they do?" I asked.

"They are the record keepers. They receive your journals and keep them safe. They also supply the Flumes with appropriate clothing and weapons for the Travelers." Press chuckled. "I guess I've been promoted to head Acolyte too. Look at these shelves."

"How do they get to be Acolytes?" I asked.

"You ask them to." Press grinned. "That's the easy part about being a Traveler. You surely know someone, right? Someone trustworthy? A friend, maybe?"

"Yeah. I do." I said.

(That's why I picked you, Mark. You're the only one I can truly trust. Please keep these journals safe.)

"Who?"

"Mark Diamond." I responded.

"Ah, Mark." Press grinned. "I should have known. He's a good kid."

"He'll do his job. No worries." I said.

"Good," he nodded. "I'll send him his ring tonight."

"Ring…?" I asked.

"Yeah. Didn't I tell you about the rings?" Press pulled a chain out from his shirt collar. On the end of it was a ring with a dark stone.

"No."

"It's the most important part." Press said. "That's what you use to find the Flumes and send your journals."

"How?"

"The stone glows when the Flume's nearby. You can also look for the star marking on the door." He pointed to the ring's stone. "And when you're done writing your journals, you say the name of the Territory you wish to send it to. Your Acolyte, who has another ring, will receive the journal."

"Oh," I said. "So…does it call up a portal or something?"

"In a way. Nothing dangerous, and you can't send yourself through it."

"Darn."

"But until your Acolyte gets the ring, they can't receive your journals."

"Ok…Uncle Press? Who are the other Travelers? Are they like us…? Or are they different, like aliens?" I asked.

"You've seen too many movies." Press laughed.

"I'm serious! What are they like?"

"I assume you'll get along." Press chuckled. "I'll give you a clue…You've seen glimpses of these territories before."

"Really? Where?" I asked.

"Do you ever wonder where authors get their inspiration? Movie writers'... theirs?"

"Yeah, why?"

Press cast me a smug smile. "Gee, I wonder why."

"So…they've seen the territories?" I asked. "Are there thousands of them? I mean, think of how many movies and books there are! We have to save them all…?"

"No, you're over thinking it," Press said. "Someone else's ideas may have come from someone before them. Everything in Second Earth is an extension of a person somewhere."

"So you're saying all the ideas out there ultimately boiled down to one person's imagination?" I thought.

"Not imagination."

"Wow…" I said in awe. "So…there's like… a _Harry Potter_ Territory?"

Press laughed again. "Not exactly. Think more…interactive."

"We're going into movies?" I asked stupidly.

"Not quite."

"You're killing me, here…" I sighed. "Are you suggesting we're going into video games or something? Because that would be incredible. I've always wanted to—"

"Bingo," Press grinned.

I couldn't find words.

"Some people who have seen the other Territories have been inspired." Press said. "Take Shigeru Miyamoto. He was the Traveler before me."

"You're kidding me, right?" I blinked.

"He has changed some things." Press said. "What you've played isn't exactly how it is. It has been manufactured for young people like you. People who don't know exactly how terrifying Halla really is."

"Wow…" I said stupidly.

"That is an understatement."

"I know," I ran a hand through my hair. "This is just…so much to take in at once. And I'm not entirely sure if you're making any sense or not."

"Well, I can show you."

"The Territories?"

"What else?" Press said. "We can stop Saint Dane together."

"What about everyone else? My mom…and dad…my sister, Shannon…my dog…?" I hesitated slightly. "Will the different Territories have a different time zone? Will time here stop for us?"

"Once again, you've watched too many movies." Press grinned. "Time will continue here, but at an altered pace."

"So…slower, but it still keeps moving?"

"Not exactly. Do you still want to come?"

I nodded. "Exactly how many Territories are there?"

"Eight in all." Press said. "First, Second and Third Earth, Alth, Avalon, Mobius, Tallon, and The World Oen."

He handed me a ring set with a dark gem.

**XxXxXxXx**

**TO BE CONTINUED...**

**XxXxXxXx**

**That's te beginning. **

**So, as you can see, I'm rewriting the **_**Pendragon**_** saga…IN VIDEO GAMES!  
**

**Plus, First, Second and Third Earth are sort of a mystery, but a hint was dropped about Third Earth and First. See if you can figure them out!**

**I have a set amount of ideas on how the series is going to go. Each story will be crossed over with a video game category, except for this one. **

**As I write, I will re-explain stuff in the books so people who have no idea about the series can follow it rather easily. **

**I am keeping the main characters (Bobby, Press, Courtney, Mark, Saint Dane) from the books. Switches in POV will be made from the Territory Bobby's on to Second Earth's Acolytes and such.**

**And the Travelers and Acolytes are already set. Sometimes they aren't who you think they are. **

**Here's your clue for the first adventure in **_**Pendragon Chronicles**_**: **

'**The territory is already dangerously unbalanced. Governments are making weapons of mass destruction. There is a small group against these weapons, and they sabotage them before they are put into commission.' **

**Keep your guesses to yourself, and remember to review!**

**If you have any minor plot ideas, feel free to tell me. I'll see what I can do with them. **

**Also, I will try to update every Saturday or Sunday, unless I die or my computer breaks (I GOT A NEW ONE, THANKS TO MY BROTHER! LOTS OF FANFICTION ON THE WAY, GUYS!)**

**The entire series will either be rated a strong T or a minor M. There will be language, violence, probably a few adult-ish themes, peril, and just pure awesomeness because Pendragon. **

**Hasta la Vista, Readers!**

**Lordoftheghostking28 **


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